


baby we're the new romantics

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, F/M, M/M, harry and taylor and gigi and zayn brotps, harry's a confused basketball player, karlie's adorable, so are kendall and niall, taylor's a very closeted cheerleader, they're hiding together, zayn's a bit of a dick but he's broody so it's fine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Don't you think it's all a bit mad, this growing up thing?" Zayn says smiling from behind a blunt and Taylor watches Harry watch him like he hung the stars in the sky they're sitting under. Or, Taylor's a super closeted cheerleader with a Big Gay Crush on the quiet girl in her AP classes and Harry's been in love with Zayn since like, forever. They're both in heavy denial. Together.





	baby we're the new romantics

It's Saturday night, the last one before school starts back up again and Taylor's in the middle of hearing a slurred speech about how this year's going to be their year. She's heard it before, obviously, pretty much every year since middle school started and it's even longer and more enthused this year. Selena decided she was going to try reckless optimism at some point last year. It's refreshing and Taylor likes it, usually.

It's times like this where they're both drunk and tired and worn out that it becomes a little obnoxious. Summer was long. For both of them.

"— that we fucking deserve it, you know. All these bullshit years of bullshit boyfriends and bullshit friends. I think we deserve a good year, Tay. Don't you? I just want things to change." Selena's intense and she's looking at her all wide eyed and honest so Taylor nods and doesn't say what she wants to.

Taylor nods and doesn't say no, we don't, because we're the mean kids, buddy. We're the kids the other kids bitch to their parents about. She doesn't remind her well intended best friend that she made a total of seven freshman cry last year, because Selena's a nice drunk, until she gets upset, and Taylor's too tired tonight. 

"I mean, like, I know we can be kinda mean and like, bitchy, but come on! I'm a good fucking person!" Taylor hums along. Selena carries on, and she zones her out. A silence will indicate her input necessary. 

Silence had been there in buckets earlier in the night. Earlier before the two of them slipped into the garden to avoid the awkwardness. They never end well: the parties at Harry's house, for some reason. There was a always an arguments and it was always forgotten about the next day. 

This one hadn't involved her for once, actually, and had actually been because of two of the more relaxed members of their group.

Basically, Harry and Gigi got into a heated disagreement over who should be the one to look after a very drunk, very giggly Kendall Jenner. It was a stupid, completely unneeded conversation in her opinion (Harry was completely and utterly useless, Gigi was used to these things, to Kendall), but it caused a lot of awkwardness when Very Drunk Kendall got a little more than friendly with Sober Gigi (who had won aforementioned argument through judges choice) and Moderately Drunk Zayn got angry.

There's a big fight, as usual; Zayn shouts out that Kendall's gay in front of everyone, Kendall leaves, Gigi slaps him and leaves after her, Zayn punches a wall, Harry consoles him, and Taylor, Selena and the rest of them sit awkwardly twiddling their thumbs.

It'll all be forgotten tomorrow, like always, and never mentioned again, like always.

Selena's moved onto Justin now, her ex, and honestly, Taylor really can't be bothered with the spiel for the fiftieth time this month so she drags her over to Niall and Liam and leaves her with them and tells her she's going to the bathroom. 

The house is full of people talking and flirting and drinking, all very loudly, and Taylor almost turns back around before she realises that she actually does really need the bathroom.

Luckily, it's Harry's house and she's stayed the night so many times before that she finds the bathroom with ease. There's a line, of course, she sighs and leans against the wall. Tonight had been a long night. Harry's somewhere in the line in front of her. She can hear his annoying teenage boy laugh from a mile away.

Rolling her eyes, she slumps behind the (thankfully tall) boy in front of her. It's not that she doesn't want to talk to him tonight, except it kind of is, it's just that she's exhausted and she knows what he's like when he's had a few.

Taylor pulls out her phone when she realises the line isn't really moving due to the fact ninety percent of the teenagers in it are either throwing up or using it to snort coke. It's two fourty two in the morning. Surely that's an acceptable time to leave her boyfriend's party. 

"Oh look, girlfriend." An arm wraps around her stomach and a head presses into her neck. He's noticed her, then.

"Hey, you," she says playfully and smiles, poking his left dimple. His eyes crinkle and he grabs her hand pulls her in for a kiss. It's slow and relatively enjoyable, like always. He's a good kisser, she thinks. Way better than any of the other boys she'd tried out, anyway. 

"Think I forgot to tell you before, but you look absolutely amazing tonight." She rolls her eyes again and shoves him gently. Compliments and sex eyes, that's drunk Harry, alright. 

"You need the bathroom?" She changes the subject. 

"Not really. Everyone else is being boring downstairs and my Xbox buddy's fucked off, so thought I'd come see 'vos 'appenin up here."

The "vos appenin" thing is some kind of inside joke between him and his friends. She thinks it comes from Zayn, due to the way he rolls his eyes everytime it comes up and Harry's fondness for it, but she's not sure. Personally, she thinks it's annoying and unfunny, but then again, she's not a teenage boy.

"Probably because your best friend outed her in front of like fifty people, babe." Harry's smile falters at that and he shifts slightly. 

"Yeah, that's very true. Hope she's good, though. It's not like we didn't all already know anyway." He shrugs, trying to brush it off like he doesn't care. God, she hates it when he does that.

"That's not really the point is it?" Taylor bites back. Harry raises an eyebrow.

"Why you suddenly her biggest fan, ay? You were saying she was into me last week." Defensive Harry is not something she wants to deal with tonight so she softens her expression.

"I'm not, I'm just saying you know. Must of been pretty shitty for her," she trails off, rubbing his chest gently. The line moves forward and Harry stays silent. 

Taylor thinks it's only her that notices how close Harry and Kendall actually are; everyone else just thinks they're fucking behind her back, or are in love with eachother or something. He tells her things, Taylor knows, things he doesn't tell anyone else. She knows because Kendall watches him watch Zayn sometimes, just like she does. Admittedly, she isn't really her biggest fan but she respects her for being there for him. And she likes Gigi, and Gigi is absolutely gone for her, so Taylor guesses that means something.

"Zee feels bad, y'know. He's tried ringing her to say sorry. I mean, fuckin' hell, it's the second time he's done it now, people are gonna think it's a hobby or something." Harry laughs but there's not really any humour in it. He's defending him, as he always is. Taylor assumes he's probably been doing it all night.

Reluctantly, Taylor knows that Zayn didn't do it maliciously, that he just has a quick fuse and notices things, but then Karlie Kloss' face from ninth grade when he told their entire chemistry class that she was a lesbian, popped into her head, and suddenly she doesn't feel all that sorry for him anymore. 

"Maybe it is." Harry looks like he definitely wants to argue but he catches himself and Taylor rolls her eyes. They're almost at the front of the line now and Harry presses up against her back and she knows what he's insinuating.

She's exhausted, he's probably (definitely) thinking about Zayn, and she thinks no, not tonight. Taylor's not gonna let him fuck her from behind with his eyes closed while he imagines she's someone else tonight.

"I actually need the bathroom," is all she says before slipping into the room, leaving him sulking behind her. 

The bathroom of the Styles' house is something she's unkindly familiar with; she has a lot of memories in this bathroom. Throwing up drunk, throwing up after sex, crying after sex, that one time she did a pregnancy test, etc. It's not like Taylor could do any of those things at home, God forbid. The only throwing up allowed in her house is when it's by choice. 

After she's done, she washes her hands and fixes herself in the mirror. She's beyond exhausted, but not a sign of it shows on her face. It's a small victory, she thinks, looking away and turning off the tap, before leaving. 

Harry's still hunched against the wall when she exits and Taylor bites back a groan. 

"You wanna go upstairs for a bit and smoke?" He grabs her waist. He's still got his sex voice on slightly, but she could really do with a smoke right now, so she nods. It'd had been too long. Selena had decided weed was bad for her over the summer and her only other friend who smoked the stuff was Cara, and Taylor didn't really trust herself enough to be alone with her while high.

"Yeah, alright." Harry leads the way to the attic up the stairs at the end of the hallway. The stairway up to Harry's room was narrow and squeaky and Taylor absolutely hated walking up it everytime she came, which he thought was hilarious, of course. 

The actual room, though, she adores. Every other teenage boy's room she'd been in had just been adorned with posters of football teams (he had a few, of course, but not too many) and naked girls (again, a few, but definitely stylish ones), but Harry's was different. It was clean for a start; not a single shoe out of place. Granted, it was his mom who did it, but still. Taylor loved it. The walls were covered in bands she wasn't cool enough to listen to, and superheroes she wasn't interesting enough to know about. 

It was slightly childish, but mostly sophisticated, and Taylor thinks it suits him perfectly. 

"Think it's in the top drawer," he says, throwing himself on his bed and resting a hand behind his head. Taylor rolls her eyes but sits on the bed and opens the drawer anyway. It's there, right next to a Polaroid of Zayn shirtless. She doesn't say anything and tosses him the bag.

"No papers?" She tosses him those too, and a lighter, and kicks off her heels while he starts rolling up. He's good at it, with his quick and delicate fingers, but he hadn't always been. Taylor knows he learnt it from Zayn and she looks away.

"She is gay, y'know. Kendall." Harry breaks their comfortable silence. 

"I know. Everyone knows." 

"I know. She's doesn't, though. Think you should tell her it's cool with you." Taylor raises an incredulous eyebrow at him. 

"Why? I really don't think she's seeking my approval, Harry." He chuckles slightly, shaking his head, and hands her a blunt and the lighter. She sticks in her mouth and he lights it for her, watching the tendrils come from the end before speaking again.

"Not you specifically, maybe, but one of your girls should tell her it's okay with you guys." 

"Cara can do it." Harry snorts.

"Fuck off. I'm being serious." Taylor rolls her eyes and lies next to him. He reaches an arm around her shoulders gently and she leans into him.

"That's cute. You care about her. It's cute," she smiles, poking his nose. He just shrugs.

"I'm still hench, though," he smirks and Taylor shoves him. 

"Very debatable." 

"Kill yourself." 

"That's problematic." 

"You're problematic," he laughs, snuggling himself into her chest. Taylor likes it like this. When they first started hanging out, it was usually the other way round, but then they figured out her arms were a fair bit longer than his and this way was a lot more comfortable. 

Also, his chest was hard and always smelt like Lynx and she didn't like it. 

"Yeah. I wouldn't be my fan." It's true, she wouldn't. Her awkward self hatred is what stopped her from singing in the first place.

"I don't know, you could spin it. You've got the misunderstood tragic backstory thing going for you." She tenses slightly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks calmly.

"You know, overbearing parents, cheerleading, that eating disorder you had for ten minutes," he snorts. Taylor smacks him. She kind of still has the eating disorder, but he's doesn't need to know that. They're having light hearted banter.

"You're an ass." 

"Yeah, but it's true. All you need to top it off is like, I don't know. Something big. You could say you're a closeted lesbian." Harry's chuckling and she joins in, really hoping that he doesn't feel her heart rate pick up.

"Maybe," her reply sounds unintentionally wistful so she speaks again before he can pick up on it, "do you still sing, though?" 

Harry makes a vague gesture with his hand and shrugs a little, "I guess. Me and Lou tried to get the band going again last year but it didn't really follow through." 

By "the band", Harry means when he, Louis, Niall, and Liam used to mess around in his basement for a couple of hours each week playing Fifa and 2K, and listening to The Stone Roses. Taylor knows because she'd been a couple times, hoping to be wooed by her boyfriend's artistry and ended up just sitting watching him whine over being beaten brutally in every match. 

He can sing, though, she knows that; he only ever really did so jokingly but even then, she could tell he could. 

"Think you should. For real, this time though. You can really sing, babe." She gives herself a mental pat on the back for being a supportive girlfriend. 

"I'd like to, for sure. Lou and Niall aren't the best singers in the world but Ni can play guitar pretty well and Lou can write," he pauses, "Zayn's an amazing singer, said he didn't want to be in it though. Not his style." 

Unsurprised, Taylor hums. She can't really imagine Zayn head banging along to Sally Cinnamon in the boys' basement. 

"Maybe you could write some songs for us, ay? Your poems are amazing," Harry tells her and she can tell he's being sincere. She half smiles proudly.

Somewhat objectively, Taylor is aware that she has a way with words. She knows she can string pretty sentences pretty easily. It doesn't mean she'd ever try and go anywhere with it though; the only reason Harry knew about her poems is because he'd read a couple in English class when they sat next to eachother in freshman year. 

"Ha, maybe." Taylor thinks he gets that she doesn't want to press the topic because he shifts a bit and starts fiddling with his shirt hem for a few seconds in silence.

"Don't think I'd have much time for a band. Not with basketball." 

Harry had been the school's star basketball player since freshman year. He'd arrived at Northwood (a primarily academic, private school) from the U.K and turned their basketball team into one of the best in the Nashville. Naturally, it had garnered him a lot of attention and he started to be interviewed all the time, and was pretty much the most talked about think in their town every time basketball season got going properly. 

He was also kind of the reason why Taylor decided to become a cheerleader.

When he'd arrived, he'd taken a shine to her, but she knew he couldn't really just date some quiet girl from his English class, with him being the talk of the town and all. He'd been confused as to why, because he's English and a sweetheart, and it endeared her to him completely so she decided to join the cheerleading squad with Selena. 

The fact that they also cheered for the girls basketball team was not a factor at all, obviously, and she definitely didn't check to see whether the very tall Karlie Kloss was on the team before joining, obviously.

(She was, not that Taylor noticed of course, but quit during sophomore year to focus on studying and modelling. Which really, Taylor had thought was fair enough. Having to choose what career path to take with being tall, pretty, athletic and smart must be difficult for her. )

"You'd figure it out, you're good at these kind of things." 

"Hm. You're head cheerleader this year, right?" She nods. Now that Demi's been kicked for snorting coke she is. 

And really, she feels for her because she's a nice enough girl, and she dated Joe too for a little while and he's an ass, but the girl had it out for her since middle school, so Taylor was a little glad to see her go. Even if it did mean she had to be the figurehead of what looked like a poster for upper middle class privilege.

Objectively, she knows she's pretty, and skinny, and dating arguable the hottest guy in the school, so it's not like she was too surprised when their coach told her at the end of last year. Taylor knows that every other girl on the team is more flexible and way better coordinated than she is, but she takes it anyway, because that's how these things work in places like this.

"That'll be cool. You've always looked so fucking hot in those outfits. Had to jack off in the toilets at half time a couple of times," he smirks, and his hand is playing with the loose fabric on the hip of her dress now. 

He's had enough of the coversation now, and has decided it's time to be A Teenage Boy and she gets it. It's not like he'd ever say those things to her if she wasn't his girlfriend, because he's a good boy, really. 

"Yeah? You get hard while playing?" she plays along, her own smirk in place and she pokes her foot in between his ankles.

"Hm, sometimes." The low voice again. Of course. 

He kisses her properly then, and she lets him. And he unzips her dress, and she lets him. The other stuff happens relatively quickly; he doesn't bother to take her dress or his pants off properly, so they're left lay on his bed pretty much fully clothed and sweaty after ten minutes. 

He's a teenage boy. She gets it. But it's still a little gross when he takes the used condom off and throws it at laughing her when he's done.

"You're an ass." Taylor's exhausted, and a little sore, and she wants to sleep.

And maybe cry a little, because she's also drunker than she intended to be. Because the only way she's come so far this year is while in the shower, letting her imagination take her places she feels dirty about afterwards, and most definitely not because of her very attractive, well endowed boyfriend. 

Still laughing, Harry lays down beside her. He's taken his shirt off now, so his illegally obtained tattoos are exposed. Taylor traces her finger over them absently.

He really is very pretty. She wishes she could love him. She wishes they could love eachother. He's her best friend.

"I love you," she whispers abruptly. He freezes, "Not like that, don't panic. Just, I don't know. We're never gonna be in love or anything but I don't ever wanna lose you, Harry." 

Tightly, he wraps an arm around her waist. 

"How do you know we're never gonna be in love?" He sounds like he doesn't really wanna know the answer and she hesitates.

"Because you're in love with your best friend," she answers gently, stroking his arm. 

There's two ways he could react, she thinks before saying it: a, he'll get defensive and say something mean, or b, he'll panic and get all flustered and blink really fast and stumble over his words.

Judging by his silence, Taylor assumes it's the second.

"I mean, there's nothing wrong with that, obviously, I'm just saying. Don't feel bad, it's my fault for staying but w—" he cuts her off. 

"Why do you? Stay, I mean? If you know I love him why the fuck you do you stay, Taylor?" he sounds angry and a little choked up. 

"Why do you let me?" 

"I— I don't know. It's easy. You never seem that into me, like that, so it's not like I'm gonna break your heart," he stops before saying the next part and takes a shaky breath, "and I think if I could get over him I'd end up loving you." 

Taylor laughs dryly and shakes her head. Did he think she'd want to her hear that? 

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? That if you could get over your fuck buddy who doesn't love you, you think I'd make a good back up?" Fuck it, she thinks in her drunken state of mind, if he breaks up with her, he breaks up with her. She can date Liam. She can date anyone. 

Except she can't, and that's kind of the issue. 

"You're everyone's fucking second choice. Your own parents are even embarrassed of you. I mean, Jesus, skinny, privileged white girl who cuts herself and throws up for attention, how more basic can you get?"

Taylor blinks at him. Just blinks. In disbelief, and to fight her tears, because she's not gonna cry in front of him. He meant that. That's what he thinks of her. That's what everyone thinks of her apparently. 

He's her best friend. And that's what he thinks of her.

"You think that's why I do it? For attention?"

"Why else would you do it? You and your friends laughed when Demi did it. I don't get why you would. It's not like you have anything wrong in your life. You're pretty, smart, rich. Nice parents who love eachother, and a dad who buys you everything. Why the fuck else would you do it?" 

She did laugh along when everyone found out that Demi cut herself, and threw up in the bathroom at lunch, and he was disgusted when she did. She knows that. Because he didn't get it. Because he's a good guy. 

And that's what she remembers suddenly, through her tears, and through his anger. The only reason he's upset is because he thinks she means the things she doesn't when they're at school. And that's how things are with Harry when he feels strongly about something, he's 0 to 100. He doesn't know any better. And why should he? He's right. Completely. She deserves to be told what he's telling her. 

"My dad made me promise not to tell my mom that his best friend liked to touch me when I was little. That's why he buys me everything I want. Because I have that over him." Harry looks at her, and she doesn't look back because she can't trust herself not to burst into tears if she does. 

She's not telling him this to make him feel bad. She wants him to know why she's turned out the way she has. She wants him to understand.

And she drunk.

"And he hits my mom sometimes, just for fun. And I have to bandage her up and tell her she's better than him every time. He'd hit me too, and my brother, if it didn't mean mom leave him. And she'd probably let him if she knew I was gay." 

It's kind of weird after that, because Taylor's sobbing and Harry's crying and they're kind of wrapped in their self pity and eachother, and that's how they fall asleep. 

She doesn't know if they're still together. She doesn't even know if he's gonna remember it in the morning. But she feels better in a way. Kind of.

And when Zayn stumbles in the room at five in the morning and him and Harry start making out with her in the bed, she doesn't even get mad. She just gets up and leaves. 

Selena might be right; things could definitely change this year. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is just kind of a prologue/backstory thing before they start the school year. the story's gonna be a kaylor/zarry fic (and no, i don't think zarry is real at all i just like the idea, and kaylor is probably just wishful thinking, let's be honest), and the focus is going to switch between both harry and taylor. i just love the idea of haylor being friends really. the visuals i have for them is essentially what they looked when they were together, so like 2012/13ish!! 
> 
> also, i know harry seems like kind of an ass in this scene but it's only because he's drunk and closed off!! i promise he's not going to be an asshole!!


End file.
